


Those New Favorite Memories

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Comfort, Cute, Established Relationship, Feel-good, Fluff, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Slash, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five instances where Liam wears Zayn's clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those New Favorite Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Can also be found [here.](http://thesimpleartofwriting.tumblr.com/post/34429586275/well-thank-you-and-im-really-glad-i-could-fill)

I. Liam's always felt infected.  
  
Infected with emotions and feelings and caring too much. He thinks with his heart and his senses, believes with his eyes and ears but he leaves the smell and the taste to Zayn. Those two things belong to the other boy who's captured so much of Liam to the point where he doesn't know what to do.  
  
Zayn's got a taste about him, an ability to crawl onto the tip of Liam's tongue and wrap around the muscle so tightly. He can smell Zayn too, his scent and the way he's clean, but not overly so. His skin lingers with a twist of honey and pine, entangled with cigarette smoke and musk.  
  
And it's probably why he'd decided to begin wearing Zayn's clothes.  
  
It starts off as small little things around the house. Sometimes it's just a pair of sweatpants, and other times it's a shirt that Zayn's worn but discarded on the floor whenever they've gotten too busy to care about laundry, too busy with each other's bodies to care about how untidy everything around them really is.  
  
So instead of picking up said clothes, Liam drapes them over his frame in the mornings, leaves his clothes on the ground by kicking them into a pile by the wall. They'll eventually be washed, he knows; he's too much of a worrier as it is, and he's sure none of them will have any clothes to wear at all if they didn't take responsibility at some point, but some days the weather is too chilly and the house fills with a frigid cold, and Liam wants to feel warm and safe, and he relies on things that Zayn has touched, run his fingers over, what his body has brushed up against to fill that need of amenity.  
  
It's funny, because Liam thinks Zayn should be enough, and he is enough, but there are moments, like in the morning, when the sun wakes him up by casting pale, yellow horizontal lines of light across his face due to the blinds, where Liam drags himself out of bed for a fresh cup of coffee, leaving Zayn to sleep as much as he can before he's really got to get up, and it's his way of keeping Zayn around him.  
  
And maybe he's a little too attached, too fond of their relationship or just overly happy about all of it, but Liam knows that Zayn doesn't mind either; in fact, there's been moments where he's encouraged him, talked him into wearing some of his shirts around the house.  
  
It's possibly a little possessive, as he knows Zayn can be in the bedroom, especially in the bedroom, and Liam blushes at the thought of Zayn slipping his varsity jacket off the hanger in the closet, throwing it over at Liam while he'd been lying on the bed naked.  
  
Aside from the safety he feels as he's wrapped up in the clothing, it brings him an utter sense of peace that he's the only one who gets to do this. There's been several occasions where some of the other lads have stolen each other's outfits in order to wear them, but Liam gets to have this, gets to have most of Zayn's clothes hanging up in his closet, right next to his like they were meant to be together.

 

  
II. Liam has a taste for discovery. He likes being able to try new things, and fit the pieces of a proverbial puzzle together in order to make all of the affairs in his life add up.  
  
Zayn's one of those pieces. He's slotted himself directly against Liam's rigid edge, soothed it out and made it whole.  
  
And Liam does the same for Zayn.  
  
It helps in the way that whenever Liam's distracted by the outer musings of the world, cascading over his mentality and into his heart, plucking at the strings and overwhelming him with things he wishes he could fix, Zayn's always there, wrapping his arm's tight around his body, lips pressed against Liam's shoulder as a way to get him to calm his nerves.  
  
Zayn can be the same, though he expresses it differently. He'll go silent the entire day, lock himself in his art studio and work on painting or sketching or whatever he feels like is the best method for him to release any pent up emotions that are driving a loaded bullet through his system. And sometimes Liam can hear him yell; he'll scream bloody murder, throwing his canvas down onto the floor because it's not perfect, and Liam knows that's his cue to quietly enter the room, pull Zayn against him and let him calm down, breathing in each other's scent in order to feel better.  
  
During these times, Liam doesn't need to be wrapped up in Zayn's clothing to feel okay or vice versa, because when these outrages happen, it's always skin on skin, something a piece cloth will never be able to provide.

  
  
  
III. Liam never asks, and Zayn doesn't either.  
  
They'll wake up in the morning, throw on clothing and head out the door in order to do their job. Promo and interviews and whatever else their people believe they must do in order to convince the world that they are worthy young men.  
  
They've been called out a few times by the boys, when each of them give them a once over, stating that they aren't wearing what they need to be wearing, but they shrug because it's become habit. It's in their nature to pull on those shirts and trousers that fit so snuggly against their body, scent cascading with each of their own spices their beings concocted.  
  
And if ever an interviewer asks, Liam tries not to blush, Zayn smirks and tells them this, "We wear what we want because we like it." It's done with finality and the questions move on, but it leaves Liam on edge and Zayn moving just so, pressing against Liam as much as he can without being too obvious, because he knows that they should have no shame in what they do. They play it off like all five of the lads wear each other’s clothing, and sometimes they do, but lately it's more so Liam and Zayn because it's Zayn and Liam and no one is willing to dig for an answer.  
  
It just is. That's how it will always be.  
  
They don't fuss; they don't try too hard. It's subtle, and they always pull it off because as much as Liam likes wearing the clothes that Zayn tends to buy and dress up in for the camera's, Zayn's gotten in a habit too of silently slipping on a t-shirt of Liam's during the day so whenever Liam is bothered to talk about his choices in life in interviews, most specifically his clothing attire that seems to have changed over the course of the past couple of weeks, all he has to do is turn to Zayn and see that his comfort is Zayn's as well, and he's okay again.

  
  
  
IV. Liam looks out of the window of the apartment he shares with Zayn. It's snowing and the sky is a dark gray in color, leaving the streets around them without dancing shadows and warm air.  
  
He's waiting silently for a key to be put into the lock, the door to open so he can greet his boyfriend properly, and while he does so, he's got on a worn out shirt, something Zayn uses when he's painting.  
  
He looks down, studying the garment that's been practically dip dyed into various colors of the rainbow. Splotches of paint liter the cloth that had once been a deep white in shade. Now though, the paint has not only stained areas of the shirt, but it's bled across the thread so that the blobs of different colors are touching one another, reaching out for their own pigmented friend.  
  
Liam's pajama pants are something that is worn too. They're red and plaid, and probably not the nicest looking piece he's ever seen, but they're Zayn's because he can't be bothered to find something else, and he only saves them for when the days get too cold, and he's forced to wear something instead of his boxers.  
  
He relents, ghosts his fingers over the window, drawing over the frosted glass while making no shape in particular, just lines that hold a hint of his fingerprints until he runs his hand over the area again.  
  
The younger boy moves then, walking across the carpeted floor and climbing in bed, pulling the comforter up until it's under his chin. The heat immediately envelopes Liam and he tries to stay awake for as long as he can because he wants to see Zayn. He's been gone for a few days now, having made an impromptu trip back home for the weekend, and while Zayn had said Liam could come with him, he'd only shaken his head and told him family was family and there was no time for distractions.  
  
He also said that it wouldn't be fair to his relatives either if Zayn spent the majority of his time with Liam when he already got to do that on a daily basis. It was only right, so Zayn, reluctantly, left and only packed what he could, purposely leaving behind a set of clothes, a silent call for Liam to keep them warm for him while he was away.  
  
His eyes close of their own accord and pretty soon, Liam's in a light sleep, and when they reopen, it's dark and he can see the snow falling, pressing up against the window. And at first, he's not sure why he'd opened his eyes again, but he feels the bed dip and suddenly realizes what's woken him.  
  
Liam doesn't say a word; he waits and knows it's coming, knows Zayn's biased because he gets to have Liam, gets to feel him against his skin and against his lips, and while there's so much he's sure the other boy would like to say and do so that Liam knows just how much Zayn cares and adores him, there's no words yet because the bed shifts again and a body is nestling in under the covers until it's pressed against Liam.  
  
"I love you," Zayn says, whispering the words so that his breath is felt against the delicate skin of Liam's neck. One of his arms moves around Liam's waist in order to wrap it tightly around the other male while they lay in bed, and although Zayn probably believes that Liam's asleep, he's not.  
  
Zayn pushes up the shirt Liam's still wearing, pressing his hand against the lower expanse of Liam's stomach, feeling the heat and the smoothness it brings against his fingertips, a stark contrast, Liam notes, to when he'd touched the window just hours before.  
  
Liam shivers at the contact, feeling those lingering words seep below the surface of his being, into his veins and straight to his heart, where it gives a beat of pleasure, a rush of adrenaline and passing thoughts that reminds him that it's always worth waiting for Zayn.  
  
He moves this time around, letting Zayn know that he's not asleep but he still doesn't say anything. He maneuvers his body back against the older boys, and while they're already impossibly close enough as it is, back to chest, they somehow only get closer.

 

  
V. Liam's been followed by the paparazzi now for about three blocks. He'd been the one to decide to go out for a little while, claiming he was restless and needed to leave the apartment, and although he'd offered for Zayn to come with him, the older boy had only shook his head, kissed him on the cheek and told him to enjoy the day for himself.  
  
He'd tried not to be put off by it, but he realizes that Zayn's still slightly under the weather and maybe it was wrong of him to even ask if Zayn was willing to leave.  
  
Though now, Liam's sure, it was better for him to stay inside, but they'd needed a few grocery's and Zayn had complained about there being no more soup, so Liam felt obligated to leave and do something to help his boyfriend out a bit.  
  
As he continues walking in a straight line across the grit-stained sidewalk, he realizes just how alone he really is, how cameras are flashing every few seconds in order to take a look at him in great detail so that his image will be ingrained in a silent shot of what could develop as misery.  
  
It dawns on him that he's really a celebrity, even when he's by himself, and although that term continues to faze him and he hates the way it sounds in general, it's what he is, and there are moments he can't be normal because today is supposed to be normal and stress free and a million in one thoughts go through his head as he approaches the gates to his apartment complex. He knows it's just a few steps away and that he'll be safe from these men who insist on doing their jobs despite the look of displeasure on Liam's face.  
  
And then some comments pop up and it's a blur and they're quick with their words, spitting them out as if they were fire and hot to the touch. The questions go off, one after another, chasing the tail end of an answer every single one of them should already know they won't receive, and Liam has to draw his lips into a straight line as he opens the gate and steps through, having to turn back around in order to close it, giving these men the shots they want despite the iron bars covering sections of his face.  
  
There's a few things said that put Liam on edge, and then he hears the end of a conversation including _Zayn_ and _together_ and Liam pales because no one should know about them and as he enters the apartment with a look of dejected beauty, Zayn pokes his head out from the kitchen doorway to find Liam trailing up to him, thrusting the few bags he'd been carrying into Zayn's hands before taking off into the bedroom, stripping off his clothes and heading to the bedroom.  
  
It's always been different between the two, while Zayn is louder in his distress - which is slightly odd because many think he's too quiet for his own good - Liam reacts accordingly. He may not sulk, not really, but he ponders and he thinks in the way that Zayn does when they're giving interviews. He'll hide too, just like Zayn and his art, but Liam stows away the emotion and never lets it out until Zayn comes to find him and force the truth out of him.  
  
Zayn falls easily, but Liam breaks harder.  
  
So when Zayn enters the bathroom and chooses to sit up on the countertop, which is not very polite, but it's their home and he has free reign, he waits until Liam’s good and soaked, scrubbing his body while letting the warm water that's fogging up the bathroom run over him until he's loose enough in his muscles to talk to Zayn.  
  
"What's happened?" he asks and at first he thinks Liam hadn't heard him over the showerhead, but Liam does and he growls in frustration.  
  
"I'm an idiot, and I never should've started this... this  _fixation_."  
  
Zayn's got no clue as to what he's referring to. "Explain it to me."  
  
"You, goddamnit,  _you_."  
  
And Zayn should probably feel an inconsiderable amount of hurt for such an implication, not really knowing what he's done to deserve such a forceful attitude out of Liam in the first place.  
  
"What have I done?"  
  
His voice is shallow and steady so that when Liam hears him, he'll know he's calm which will hopefully have the same effect on him.  
  
"Everything. Nothing.  _I don't know_."  
  
It's honesty at its finest.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
" _Yes_ , the way you've gotten under my skin. You're like a permanent mark left there for the world to see, Zayn. They see it, see us."  
  
"And what's given you that idea?"  
  
The water in the shower shuts off before the glass door opens and although Liam's naked and dripping wet, his hair plastered to the side of his head and across his forehead, he makes his move, stepping across the tile, littering the floor with wet little raindrops before he's in front of Zayn, parting his legs so he can fit in between them and all Zayn does is swallow and blink and search with wandering eyes because he's sure there's no words left for him to say. He's asked the questions that needed to be asked and now it's Liam's turn to provide the missing details in order for Zayn to categorize how serious this arising problem is between them.  
  
"You're everywhere on me, don't you know that?" he asks, and Zayn doesn't make any move to respond so Liam does it for him by bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of Zayn's upper thighs, pulling the boy closer into him so he can lean up and kiss him harshly.  
  
From there, it's fumbling hands and mouths and water, but Zayn doesn't mind and neither does Liam because clothes are removed, a bed appears and it starts, it happens, because Liam had been wearing one of Zayn's shirts in public and someone had noticed because Liam's always been a little shy and a little unstable too. But as it gets rougher and tighter and gratifying, nothing matters, especially if the world will be questioning them within hours.


End file.
